Soren vowed to hide away from Ike, unless he had some specific business to share. If he was honest with himself, it was lonely, but it was necessary for self-preservation. Now, though, Soren had a reason: he just needed proof.
Nasir was extremely suspicious—even more so than usual.
Soren was going to expose Nasir so he would sulk away into whatever hole he came from and effectively prevent him from betraying Ike in any way. Then, Ike would praise him and Soren could have a reason to see him that didn't involve talking about his weaknesses. This would be how to redeem himself. He approached the shady laguz.
"What are you planning?" Crimson eyes glared, demanding answers.
"Where did that come from? I've no idea what you're talking about." Nasir smiled, fake kindness overtaking his features. It was nauseating.
"Don't play dumb with me. We're past that. Gallia's decision to join in this war was based on some new information they received, wasn't it?"
"..."
"Cat got your tongue? Fine. I'll tell you what you've been doing here... You were to deliver Princess Crimea to Begnion to see if she could garner any support for her cause. And-regardless of whether she got that assistance or not-to judge if she was worthy of laguz support. Am I wrong?"
"If you've figured all of this out, why remain silent?" The laguz studied him intently, but did not seem shaken, as Soren would have hoped. That was no matter, though.
"Because your actions were beneficial to Princess Crimea. I determined that even if left to your own devices, you would not harm the princess."
"It sounds like you don't think that's the case anymore."
"You accomplished both missions, but you've come back anyway. To what end?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you." Soren smirked. He was going to break open this filthy sub-human's plan.
"That's true only until I reveal your purpose to Ike."
Somehow, for all his brilliance in strategy, Soren miscalculated on one key detail.
"Everyone has a secret or two that he wants to bury somewhere deep… including you, Soren."
Nasir knew.
Nasir would expose him.
Soren was no fool. The words were intentionally vague, but Nasir's face, tone, and how he kept his eyes trained directly on the brand on his forehead made it perfectly clear that he knew exactly what the tactician was.
Soren set his jaw and glared as he had always practiced, but he felt the baby hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as panic and adrenaline pounded through his veins.
"… I don't know what you mean." He was used to lying, and his voice betrayed nothing. Not to this scum, anyway. But, it didn't matter.
"I trust that we understand each other." This time, Nasir was smirking. The remainder of the conversation was a blur. Soren conceded to a stalemate, but he remained suspicious of everyone else at camp. Was it really okay to let Nasir go?
This was betraying Ike, but his thought of self-preservation, even just for a few hours longer, called louder. He was incurably selfish, because he knew no one else would have his back if it came down to it… While Soren wandered off to brood alone, he felt a presence in the darkness. The mage gripped his Elwind tome close to him, ready to open it.
"Who goes there?"
"Don't be so alarmed. I'm...one of yours." Ah. It was Stefan. Still, that did very little to put Soren at ease.
"One of ours? Unlikely."
"Yes, one of your kind. I see that you pretend to be something you aren't and have lived among foreigners."
He couldn't possibly know as well…. Could he? ...Could he also be Branded? Or was this another trick?
"... I, I…"
"Hmmm...I see that I've puzzled you. I'll let you stew on what I have said. Let's sit and talk next time our paths cross." And just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone again.
Soren ran further into the woods. If for no other reason, he needed to start to scout a way out. His time was running out. Soon, instead of the gossip around camp saying he was a spirit charmer, it would instead reveal the truth. If Nasir AND Stefan knew, and it was likely that other laguz had their suspicions… knowledge of that beast would never be able to return to a cage. He would be either told to leave, or he would be left for dead. He needed a plan, but none of the pathways seemed particularly suitable. He resigned himself to looking back at the maps. Maps were concrete and easier to plan through than staring at nothingness in the woods.
It felt a lot like looking into himself, which caused an internal discomfort to flare up once more.
Eventually, he made his way back to the tent. The tactician reasoned that he needed rest to survive on his own, but it evaded him that night. And the next. On the third night, he managed to nod off for about an hour or two, but it was filled with unnerving silence and painful memories.
Nasir had stolen the medallion. He was gone. Mist was devastated, but Ike was afraid, which was significantly more unnerving. It wasn't visible to most, but he was more restless in his movements. There was something more to it than sentimentality.
Soren wanted to help, but he knew if he approached Ike, it would once again turn into confessing his sins to his savior. He was the reason that Nasir ran off. Guilt, seemingly ever-present as of late, surged through his veins. The confrontation added a timer. Plus, he knew Nasir was up to something, and hadn't told Ike.
How could Ike possibly forgive him now?
Needless to say, sleep continued to evade him for any longer than a couple hours at a time when he could actually succumb.
He couldn't recall exactly how long this went on for, but the sleep-deprivation made him more emotionally bankrupt. He was more intense, and perhaps he gave off an aura of warning, as most avoided him more than usual.
"Soren, are you sure you're okay to fight?" Since Ike was preoccupied going over plans with the Princess, and there was only one other person foolish enough to approach him when he was like this—the little sister.
Honestly, that was rich coming from Mist. Had he truly fallen so far to receive pity from children?
"Of course I am able to fight." There—curt, to the point, but not rude.
"Are you—" She dropped her voice to a whisper and tried again, more confident. "…I can tell you haven't been sleeping." His hands clasped into fists. "…Are you sure you're okay?" Great. A child was looking out for him. But, he supposed in all fairness, Mist had done her fair share of growing throughout this war. She wasn't as young as she used to be–none of them were.
He just didn't appear older. He swallowed back the thought as soon as it appeared, not allowing himself to dwell on it further.
"I'm fine."
"…Okay, if you say so, I'll believe you. But, family sticks together. You know I think of you as part of our family… Right?"
No, he hadn't. But… Family with a Branded. That was preposterous. It felt like she was teasing him, and with a shorter fuse than usual, he wanted to lash out at her. His rationality overpowered his emotions, though: that would certainly get him kicked out.
He needed to leave.
"I have a lot of preparations left to do. If you'll excuse me…"
If only her concerns were unwarranted.